One in Seven Billion
by CreativeLoven
Summary: There are 7 billion people in the world, putting the odds of meeting a random stranger at 7 billion to 1. Logan is an aspiring filmmaker, and Rory a hopeful journalist. Both career driven, stubborn and very much in love, what are the odds of them making it down the aisle?
1. Chapter 1

**Epilogue**

 _This was a big decision. The most important decision in my life, one might say. Yet I was not in the proper state to make such judgment, as I sat with a ball of nerves in the pit of my stomach. My heart was beating too fast. My lungs couldn't extend to their full capacity. My hands were shaking, and my white dress was undoubtably too tight._

 _Breathe Rory, breathe, I coaxed myself and squeezed my eyes shut. I thought of my husband-to-be, who was the epitome of someone strong and true. He was not perfect. No one truly was. However, after all these years, I truly believed that he could be perfect for me._ _That was the problem though. The word "could". Was I proud enough to walk down the aisle and swear to love this imperfect man for an eternity, solely based on the word "could"?_

 _How did I get here? How did I turn into this indecisive, guilt-ridden wreck, on my wedding day? I squeezed my eyes even tighter, and gathered all my efforts into remembering a simpler, carefree time. Yet, the pictures that flooded the darkness before me were all of_ him _. He was certainly not simple, though he was carefree. Or so he seemed._

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 **September 15, 2000**

"Mom, did I really have to wear this?" I whined, while tugging on the fluffy straps of my fluffy dress, as my mom and I walked up the steps to my grandparent's mansion. It was Friday night, which meant dinner at my grandparent's. This was a newly established tradition ever since I started going to Chilton High two weeks ago.

"Kiddo, trust me, this is nothing compared to what I had to endure at your age. Your dress would laugh in the face of the dresses I wore back in the days if they ever met."

I half groaned, half laughed. "Personification of dresses aside, who are these guests Grandma invited to dinner?"

"Er, some rich snobs with a rich son who you're way too good for?" My mom turned to me, and looked me straight in the eyes. "No matter how many diamonds and mansions this guy buys you, Rory, the fruit of my loin, do not fall for his tricks, kapeesh?"

I rolled my eyes, and suppressed a chuckle. "Rest assured, I'm 16. I don't need diamonds and mansions. What I need is a pristine transcript to get me into Harvard."

"That's my girl." She grinned as she rang my grandparent's doorbell.

In the matter of seconds, Grandma was at the door, beaming with the fake smile she wore whenever there were guests. "Rory! Lorelai! Come on in."

"Wow, Mom, that's a first. Did you switch careers to become a professional doorman? Thirty something years, and I don't remember being personally greeted at the door, ever." My mom chuckled the way she knew would get to Grandma.

"Lorelai, _please_ ," Grandma replied, dismissing my mom like she was an errant child. "Rory." She grabbed my arm and rushed me inside. "Meet my dear friends."

"Hello, dear." A middle-aged, well dressed woman offered her hand.

"This is Mr. and Mrs. Huntzberger. We go way back." My grandpa announced as he approached my mom and I with drinks in hand.

"Nice to meet you" I nodded politely.

Mr. and Mrs. Huntzberger stepped aside to reveal a blonde-haired boy clad in a suit. He looked a few years older, maybe twenty? His mannerism, on the other hand, was that of a practiced socialite. His eyes caught mine as he gave a charming smile and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Rory."

Amused by the way he carried himself, like he was years older than he looked, I held back a smirk as I replied, "Likewise."

He must have noticed, because his smile grew just a bit wider. It was a nuance only I had caught.

* * *

After dinner, I excused myself to the ladies' room, while really I was venturing into my grandfather's library. I had read the _Catcher in the Rye_ last week and couldn't wait to have the book in my hands again. My grandfather had a collector's edition of the book. Its pages smelled old, like stories and history. The copy I had in my room was borrowed from the library, and smelled like old newspaper. I knew Grandpa would let me borrow it if I asked, but I didn't want to upset my mom. I knew she felt guilty for not providing me with the luxuries my grandparents could afford, although I was more than happy with our modest life in Stars Hollow.

"Whatcha reading?" A voice jolted me.

I looked up and caught sight of the boy standing in the doorway with the bright hallway light casting shadows on his face. What was his name again? Oh, right. Logan. Without replying, I lifted the book to reveal the cover page.

Squinting his eyes, he took a few steps until he was before me. "Classic," he said.

"You've read it?"

"A few times."

With his smug smile and perfectly tousled blonde hair, Logan didn't come off as someone who read classics.

The surprise must have registered on my face because he smirked and said, "What? You thought of me as more of a _Pride and Prejudice_ sort of guy?"

A smile crept up my face. I sensed he was referring to Mr. Darcy, arrogant and wealthy. "I would be quite rude to form a judgment of you so soon." I shrugged.

"Ah, but you did." His eyes twinkled as he cocked his head to a side.

Taken aback, I blurted, "What?"

"I see the way you looked at me the second we met." He shook his head a little. "Why, I'm a spoiled, little rich boy. I go to Yale on my parent's dime."

Like a kid caught in a lie, my cheeks flushed and I shifted my gaze. "I've no idea where you got that impression."

A soft chuckle met my ears as he replied, "I'm teasing. Just trying to liven up this party."

Embarrassed, I tried to change the topic. "You go to Yale? What do you study?"

"Film production," he replied while once again holding my gaze. I started to notice the lights from the fireplace dancing across the room, and washing over his face.

"Cool." I nodded, as a deeper blush crept up my cheeks. I wasn't skilled at making conversation with college boys. I didn't even have much experience talking to high school boys for that matter.

"What's your aspiration? Writing?" He gestured to the book in my hands.

"Journalism, actually." I gathered the sophistication in me and replied smoothly. "Good guess though."

My so-called eloquence was rewarded with another chuckle from Logan. "Thanks, Ace" he beamed at me. "You a reporter, and me a filmmaker, huh?" Logan began as he took a seat in the armchair across from mine. "What do you think are the odds of us making it big?"

"Better than winning the lottery."

"Ha, I'd hope so." His tone was half serious as he reached over to grab my book. I distinctly noticed how his fingertips brushed the back of my hand.

Looking up at him, our eyes met. His eyes were slightly dark in perfect contrast to the light locks of his hair. I decided then that he was handsome, and immediately felt warmth gather under my cheeks. I had crushes in school before, but Logan was a college boy, and there was something exciting about that. Until now, I had no idea that I liked "exciting".

"Rory?" My mom's voice came from the doorway.

"Mom!" I jumped.

"Grandma says it's time for dessert." My mom's eyes darted from me to Logan and back.

"Oh, okay," I hurriedly replied, feeling like I was caught in a horrible act.

"We'll be right there, Ms. Gilmore" Logan jumped in.

My mom gave a tight smile and threw a final look my way before disappearing down the hall.

"I'll put this back." Logan raised the book in his hands and walked to the rows of bookshelves.

I watched as he slid the book into the crevice. He turned around. "Ready for dessert, Ace?"

"Why do you call me Ace?" The question came out my mouth, curious.

"Ace reporter, you know, for when you make it big." He shot a charming smile my way.

A grin escaped me as I made my way to the door with Logan by my side.

I was just a girl, meeting a charming boy. I hoped to come off as cool and sophisticated, like him. I thought of things to say when we met again. However, Logan didn't come to dinner the following Friday, or the next. I didn't think I'd see him again.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

It's been a loong time since I last wrote! This story came to me yesterday, and I just had to pen it down... Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 **September 26, 2002**

Navigating Yale's residence was not an easy feat. I'd moved in with my friend from Chilton, Paris Gellar, two weeks ago, but still had a tough time locating our dorm after a day's lectures. Paris and I's living arrangement was a surprise in many ways. First, I'd always dreamed of going to Harvard, but when the time came, I chose Yale, the school my grandfather attended. Second, Paris and I didn't exactly get along during high school, but we've managed to put our differences aside. Paris was weird, annoying and completely intolerable. However, I could study on Saturday nights without music blasting in the room, and she could ramble about her relationship with our much older professor without too much protest from me. We complemented each other in the oddest ways.

Taking a left turn, I found myself in familiar territory. My room was down the hall, except there were three guys crowded around my door. Walking towards them, I heard one say in an Australian accent.

"I'm not putting my number. I'm putting _your_ number." He was writing on a piece of paper that was propped against the door.

Bemused, I blurted out, "That's my room."

All three guys turned to me. One guy looked particularly familiar. He looked me up and down and said, "Okay, put my number"

Taking in his amused grin, which came off as slightly smug, I recognized him as the boy I'd met years ago at Friday night dinner. I'd thought I wouldn't see him again.

"Wait, have we met?" He squinted his eyes, looking nonplussed.

"We may have," I replied teasingly.

His mouth lifted at the corners as he said, "It's unsettling, 'cause I'm certain if I've met you before, I would most definitely remember."

"But clearly you don't," I retorted, shaking my head at his most unoriginal pick-up line. Inside, my heart slightly jolted in its place at the thought of Logan, the college boy I met at 16, flirting with me. I must have looked like a kid then, but now we were on equal playing fields. I was a Yale student, just like him.

"If you could refresh my memory…"

"We met long time ago, at my grandparents," I said, letting him off the hook.

It took a few seconds for recognition to register on Logan's face. "Ah, yes that's right." He nodded with a broad smile. "You're the Ace reporter. It's nice to see you again…" He paused. "Rory, was it?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, and don't bother introducing yourself, _Logan_ "

"Wow, you remembered my name. Now I feel like an asshole."

"I'm sorry to interrupt-" The Australian guy, who I almost forgot about, interjected. "But I sense some palpable tension here." He look completely lost as he continued, "Have you two…you know?"

He looked from me to Logan and back, before raising an eyebrow at me suggestively.

"Oh… no!" I exclaimed. Was he hinting at the possibility of Logan and I having had sexual relations? Were college kids these days always so promiscuous? I was a minor back then for crying out loud.

Logan seemed apologetic as he quickly told his friends. "Finn, Colin can you give us a minute?" He nodded to the stairway beside us, gesturing them to leave.

"Ohh, got it, mate. Take your time." Finn winked before disappearing with Colin up the stairs, shouting, "I think it's this room!"

Once they were gone, Logan took a step closer. "Sorry 'bout that, Ace. And I apologize for not remembering you."

"It's okay, it was years ago."

"You go here?"

Nodding, I said, "Yes, I'm a registered student, and not squatting on Yale property."

He let out a chuckle. "Glad to know you're obeying the law."

"I actually started this semester"

"Ah, have you gotten a formal tour of the campus?" He asked, "I can show you around. How 'bout dinner?"

Our eyes locked and I was re-familiarized with his boyish charm. Feeling myself blush, I quickly replied, "Oh no, that wouldn't be necessary. I wouldn't wanna trouble you."

"C'mon, Ace," He grabbed my arm gently, leading me away from the door. "It's no trouble."

* * *

After dinner, Logan gave me a tour of the campus as promised. We visited the various statues and libraries, and I was impressed by the historical details he knew. Walking past a quaint café, I tugged on Logan's arm.

"I wanna grab a quick coffee." I bounced up the cobble stone steps.

"You're kidding, right?" He caught up to me. "At this hour?"

"The Gilmore girls have coffee at all hours." I informed him proudly. "The possibility of coffee is never off the table. Want anything?"

"I think I'm good on my caffeine intake for the day."

"I want to get you something. You paid for dinner," I said, almost shy.

He smirked. "There are many things I'd rather have from you besides coffee."

"Suit yourself," I said playfully, rolling my eyes at his effort of seduction.

With my latte in hand, we strolled towards Sterling Memorial Library, the largest library at Yale and my most familiar spot. Stopping by the fountain across the building, I took in the night view. The plain, dark marble of the fountain contrasted the intricately designed building like night and day. I leaned down to feel the marble seat surrounding the fountain and was greeted with a chilling smoothness.

"This is the Women's Table," Logan began, "It lists the number of women enrolled at Yale from 1701 to 1992, which marks the first year the number of female equaled male students."

"It was created by renowned artist and architect Maya Lin," I added.

"So you _have_ already been given a formal tour?" Logan asked, feigning a look of hurt.

"Nah, I read about it in _Yale: A Short History_." He wasn't the only knowledgeable one.

"I didn't know your love of reading extended that far." He sat down by the fountain.

Taking a seat beside him, I said, "There are many things you don't know about me."

"It would be an honor to find out." He grinned as his eyes searched for mine.

I smiled back, reluctantly allowing our eyes to meet. The shyness I felt at that moment was foreign. I reverted to my 16 year old self, and was just a girl sitting with a charming, older boy. The dulcet sound of water flowing from the fountain filled the night air. Watching the dim street lights highlight Logan's blonde hair and face, I was at a loss for words.

Clearing his throat, he broke the silence. "Two years sure make a huge difference." His lips twitched into a smile. "You've turned pretty since we met. Not that you weren't gorgeous before," He added.

I grimaced while taking a sip of my latte. "Thanks?"

He quickly continued, "I mean, back then, you felt like a sister or something."

I rolled my eyes as his words confirmed my suspicion. "How about now?" I asked with seeming nonchalance.

Without a word, Logan reached over and wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb. I must have had foam on my face, I realized before blushing a thousand shades of red.

"Now… you're a friend." He paused, examining me with soft eyes. "Hopefully, with the potential to be more."

My heart swelled in my chest and the corners of my mouth lifted into a silly grin. I must have looked idiotic, but I didn't care. "Do you say that to all the girls?"

"Me? No way, I'm new to all this flirting stuff." His smile turned into a giant smirk.

A laugh escaped me. "Ohh, that's what you were doing? Flirting?"

"You couldn't tell?" He asked, looking almost concerned.

"Not really," I teased.

"I guess I better show my interest in more direct ways." His voice lowered as he held my gaze.

Slowly, Logan leaned in, edging closer and closer to me. I sat very still, anticipating what I thought was to come. Closing my eyes, I felt his hand on the side of my face as a soft pair of lips touched mine. He kissed me sweetly, so gently as if I was something delicate. My heart was pressing against my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I hadn't felt this way before. I didn't know it until years later, but this feeling was elicited by Logan alone.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of Logan and Rory's first date. The rest of the story will continue in this format where it jumps to a scene in a later date and year. The story will take you through Rory's life until current time using these scenes of events happening on specific dates. Unfortunately, I don't know how long it will take me to finish this story as I'm super busy this year. Hopefully, you'll stay with me along the way! Thanks!


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